They entered a waiting carriage outside the gates. This would probably be a little awkward, since the space was so confined. Oz was about to sit opposite Gil, like he normally did, but the sour expression on Gil's face made him hesitate. Oz shot him a curious look; he immediately averted his golden eyes to stare at the window.

"What's wrong, G—Master?"

"Nothing," came the curt response.

Oz smiled to himself. Gil had always been on the grouchy side.

"Hey, Master?"

"Yes?"

"If you want me to sit beside you, just say so!"

"What?"

"Don't tell me you're really surprised." Oz decided to take the plunge. "I may not remember some things, but I heard this and that, so..."

Gil jerked away from the window to glare at him.

"Sit down and shut up!"

"But—"

There was no time for Oz to protest, as the carriage lurched into motion. The concept of gravity hadn't changed. There was nothing he could do to stop himself from falling. And since there wasn't anything for him to grab onto except for Gil, he had to make do. Toppling into his master's lap was the least of his problems.

Oz got a faceful of Gil's smoky jacket.

That had to be better than bashing his skull open elsewhere in the death trap carriage.

"Your driver needs more lessons," Oz mumbled into Gil's chest. "I could've died."

"Seriously?" Gil's attempt at sounding calm didn't quite work. "If you're hurt, I—"

He glanced up at Gil, whose obvious concern made him happy all over.

"I'm okay." He smiled the smile he only reserved for Gil. "Since Master was here to save me. Thanks."

Gil grew pink. "There's really something different about you."

"We've been through this before."

"It's difficult to understand," Gil snapped. "Anyway, stop reading those trashy romance novels! If you say something sappy like that again I'll drop you off in the middle of nowhere."

"Are you confusing me with Sharon?"

"You're the furthest thing from a lady!"

"I hope that's a good thing." Oz continued to smile. "Since we're, well..."

"We're not anything besides master and servant." Gil seemed to struggle with the words. "All this...this...suggestiveness is really brazen of you! I have no idea what I did to deserve this..."

Everything he said didn't quite get deciphered by Oz's brain. Sure he heard him, but he was distracted by how cute his master was. How warm it felt to be sitting in Gil's lap, how nostalgic the smell of cigarettes was. Before he could stop himself, he had reached up and taken off Gil's hat, laying it beside him. All the better to stroke a few locks of Gil's perpetually messy hair.

That silenced his rambling protests quickly enough.

"I'd tell you to cut your hair," Oz said, continuing to stroke the soft strands, "but I think this suits you. Gil wouldn't be Gil without it."

"Don't," Gil said, so softly that it could have been a auditory hallucination. "Please."

Despite this, he made no move to stop Oz from touching his hair, made no move to push the blond boy out of his lap. His eyes were a light honey color instead of the usual brilliant gold. Oz wondered what Gil was thinking as they simply looked at one another.

All he knew was that Gil's heart thudded in his chest, and his did too.

Gil's lips were slightly parted, tempting Oz.

Would Gil do anything to stop him from meeting them with his own? Oz knew that this wasn't really his Gil, and this Gil had certainly stated as much about him. But the very spirit of Gil was there, wasn't it? This being a parallel dimension wouldn't be able to hold his feelings back or change his mind about his servant. About his master.

Oz cupped his hands around the back of Gil's neck and drew closer to him.

Their noses were nearly touching.

Neither of them blinked; this moment stretched throughout time.

And then...

"I can't do this."

Blood pounded in Oz's ears. "Why?"

"I don't need to explain myself to you," Gil turned away. "Now get off me."

The sudden coldness to his best friend's—his lover's?— tone confused him.

"But, Gil, you wanted to. I know you did."

"You don't know what I want because you don't know me. Not anymore."

"I do!" Oz tried to keep his breathing steady. "We're best friends, Gil. I hate to sound like one of those trashy romance novels you suddenly seem to hate, but Gil, I understand you better than I understand myself."

Gil stiff posture seemed to vanish as he covered his face with a gloved hand.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Master?"

"Fine, if that's what you want, I will. If that means we—"

Oz found himself hoisted to his feet and planted on the plush seat where he had originally meant to sit. His shoulder twinged with pain, still not recovered after its acquaintance with Vincent. Gil stood before him, fists clenched, and Oz felt more like a child than he had in a while. He hated feeling so infantile. If he was like this, Gil could never see past their age difference. It was as if Gil had put him in the naughty corner.

"Don't do anything like this again," Gil said. "Don't even mention it. Ever."

"Fine."

Oz found himself slipping into his happy go lucky mode. He knew he would cry, and possibly never stop, otherwise. Why had he wished for this? All he had wanted was to go back to the time where they had been fourteen and fifteen. If he had confessed to Gil then, they could have had some happiness before Oz was sent to the Abyss.

If he ever came in contact with that white haired demon again, he'd kill her.

Even if she looked like Alice.

The Will of the Abyss has ruined the only wish he had.

"Fine?" Gil repeated, caught off-guard. "Well, I'm glad you understand."

Oz shrugged. "I was only fooling around anyway. Sorry."

"I see." Gil went back to his seat. "That's a relief. I thought you were serious."

Those words tore his heart into pieces.

What he had left of it after everything he had been through, anyway.

The carriage swayed to and fro in their silence. Oz felt like he would puke from the rocking motion. He needed to divert his attention from his queasiness and the only thing to do was talk to Gil. Talk to his master. He told himself to call him that from now on. Because that's all they were. Gil had made it clear as crystal. Despite this, Oz refused to let go of calling him Gil in his thoughts. He just couldn't.

"Master Raven?"

"What is it?"

"I'm wondering where we're going."

"Didn't you talk to your sister yesterday?"

"I did, but something came up." Oz played with a frayed strand on his navy blue shirt, trying not to think about what Lotti was doing to her right now. "So I still don't know what's going on with the ball."

"If you had finished the conversation, you would have known that we're going to a costume fitting today."

"Costume fitting?"

"The ball is going to be a masquerade," Gil explained. "It will be more tolerable that way."

"Why are you having a ball if you don't like them?"

"It's Nightray tradition. I wouldn't be doing it otherwise." Gil withdrew a slim cigarette from a box and lit it. "Do you mind?

Oz remembered how he had tried to dissuade Gil from his habit with chocolate cigarettes and smiled. "No, not really."

"Hm." Gil smiled back. "I guess I can live with this new attitude."

The last thing Oz remembered was staring at the glowing ember on the end of Gil's cigarette and finding it strange that something so pretty could be so harmful. The next thing he knew was that something was planted roughly onto his head.

His eyes shot open. All of a sudden, he was very awake.

Gil raised an eyebrow. "Sorry to interrupt your nap."

Oz reached up to his scalp and found that he was wearing a hat. By the conspicuous appearance of Gil's uncovered hair, he realised that he had received a donation. This gesture alone was enough to make him feel better after what had happened after their almost kiss.

"W-what's with that smile?"

"Thanks, Master."

"It's just a hat," Gil huffed. "Don't act so impressed."

Oz managed to pull a neutral expression, but he felt like sunshine radiated from his every pore. All he had to do was make Gil realize they would be good together. The raven haired man already liked him, after all. He wouldn't have lent him his precious hat if that wasn't the case. They had already been together before. Something had changed that, and he would find out what and fix it.

The two of them would have a happy ending.

His nap had only increased his determination even more.

"Have we arrived?" Oz asked. "That was fast."

"Lucky for you that you managed to sleep," Gil said. "I was not entertained."

"Oh?" Oz hopped to his feet. "Master should've woke me up."

"Why would I?"

"I'm pretty good at entertaining people." Oz paused. "I'm sure you know that."

"Yes, well." Gil cleared his throat. "You work hard so you needed some rest."

He looked so adorable saying this that Oz had to resist tackling him onto the floor.

Someone knocked on the carriage door and a very familiar voice boomed:

"Master Raven, what on earth are you two doing in there?"

Oz couldn't help it. He laughed, only laughing harder when Gil glared at him.

His Uncle Oscar always made everything sound full of innuendo.

He had learned from the best. Gil should have put two and two together.

Gil shook Oz by the shoulders and hissed, "You probably don't remember this, but Oscar is pretty obsessed with the idea of us. Well." He sighed. "Being together. And the way you behave now will only add fuel to the fire, so don't—Oz? Why are you so pale?"

Oz felt very faint by all the shaking of his injured shoulder.

It seemed there were two Gils standing in front of him.

A giggle broke from his lips.

"If you don't come out in thirty seconds I'm breaking down the door!"

His uncle sounded happy about this.

Oz bent over with the force of his giggles.

Well, if Oscar was a fan of them being lovers, of course he'd want to see the action.

"Calm down," Gil pleaded. "Oz!"

"Kiss me."

The words just tumbled out of him; his brain to vocal chords filter seemed disabled by the flood of endorphins racing through his system. If this is what being drunk felt like, he wanted more of it. Too bad pain and not alcohol was the only way he could achieve this high.

"Ten seconds!"

Gil looked back and forth between the shadowed figure prowling behind curtain covered windows and him. Oz felt himself slowly getting a grip on reality. He looked up, going to tell Gil that he had calmed down, just in time to see Gil's face swoop down to his and peck him on the lips.

It was as if someone had tossed him into an icy lake.

Oz recoiled from the kiss, not knowing why, and hurried to open the door.

Oscar had reached "one!" on his countdown when the door swung open.

He grinned at both of them, rubbing his bearded chin with a thumb and forefinger. Oz didn't want to know how his uncle had gotten involved with the Nightrays. It was all too weird to contemplate. And then there was the small issue of the kiss.

Oscar picked up Oz easily and lifted him to the ground.

"Do you remember me?"

His smile was infectious and Oz couldn't help but grin through his shock.

"Of course. You heard about my amnesia?"

"Everyone's heard, son!" Oscar clapped Oz on the back. "You seem to be holding up."

"I'm still me," Oz said. "Just a little improved, I guess."

His uncle chortled merrily and turned to Gil, who had just stepped out of the carriage.

"That bodes well for you, doesn't it, Master Raven?" Oscar couldn't have been more obvious if he had winked and nudged him. " A new and improved version of your adorable, ever faithful little serv—"

Gil waved him away. "No more of that nonsense."

"All right, all right." Oscar frowned in mock disappointment. "Now, you two don't take too long getting your costumes. I'm fully prepared to hunt you down if you get into trouble."

"Oscar!" Gil blurted. "I'm an adult, there's no need to lecture me."

"Yes, but Oz needs some supervision. Raging hormones and all...if he happens to see a pretty girl and runs off after her..."

"That won't happen!" Gil exclaimed.

"Oh?" Oscar purred. "And why not? Do share."

"W-wait, are you thinking about that again? I'm telling you, Oz and I are—"

"Master and servant, I know, I know. Don't get so defensive, Master Raven!"

"I'm not being defensive!"

Oz noticed Gil's blush but couldn't remember if he had had those pink cheeks before Oscar had teased him or not. Probably not. The little kiss was just to shut up Oz's laughing, after all. It had worked too. A shiver raced up his spine as he recollected the moment their lips brushed. If something like that made him blush so easily, Oz couldn't imagine what sort of responses their previous life elicited from Gil.

If Eliot's smirk indicated something more than G-rated between them, that is.

A/N: I hope you found this chapter satisfactory. It took me a lot of blood, sweat, and tears to churn out. And now I'm probably gonna be taking a break from this for a little while and doing some one-shots. Hopefully they'll give my mind the rest I need after my multi-chaptered stories, haha. Thank you all for your readership! Chocolate to everyone who takes the time out of their busy lives to review. ;)